Someone Else
Last night I succumbed to such hysterical laughter that I cried. I was so pissed off about something that I broke into hysterics. I just pointed stiff fingers at Calvin and said, "Raaaaaage." Then laughed, and laughed, in a very maniacal way. I couldn't stop laughing. It was psychotic. Tears rolled down my face, I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't stop myself. It was like I was having a seizure. Except that endorphins are endorphins, even if the laughter was rage-induced. So after I finally got a hold of myself I felt really good for a while.
Calvin thinks I'm a little bit crazy.
When a person suffers from depression, it never just goes away. You're never cured, you just manage it until it goes into hiding, and when it comes back again you manage it again. It's a disease that there is no complete escape from, it just goes into remission now and then.
At this moment in time I am choosing to manage my depression through non-pharmaceutical methods. I cook, I clean, I write, I exercise, I read, I watch movies and TV, I wrestle with Calvin. Some days are better than others. Some hours are better than others. I've been struggling a bit over the past month. Decided for about a week to go back on a prescription. Gave it up in anger at myself because I felt like I was taking the easy way out. I can find ways to re-wire my brain on my own, without drugs, dammit.
I take a lot of naps. Something about depression makes me tired. I know I'm trying to avoid my own mind by turning it off.
Lately I've been wishing that I was someone else. Someone else inside my head. I don't want a different life with different people, I just want to swap brains with one that is whole, calm, and at peace. I have a good life - I'm married to my best friend, I have a decent job, I have a nice home, and all of my material needs are met. The only specific things that I am unhappy about are money and the fact that we don't live in Maine. Last night Calvin assured me we would get there, someday, we just have to figure out how.
The knowledge that he's on board with moving back home, and that he's going to help me figure out how to dig us out of debt, is very comforting to me. I don't remember being depressed when I lived in Maine. Granted, I was nineteen when I moved away, but is that the variable that will switch my brain back to normal? It certainly can't hurt, that's for sure.
I asked Calvin last night if he ever wanted to be someone else. He said not permanently, but he wouldn't mind inhabiting the body of Kate Beckinsale's husband for a weekend. That's my guy.
Calvin thinks I'm a little bit crazy.
When a person suffers from depression, it never just goes away. You're never cured, you just manage it until it goes into hiding, and when it comes back again you manage it again. It's a disease that there is no complete escape from, it just goes into remission now and then.
At this moment in time I am choosing to manage my depression through non-pharmaceutical methods. I cook, I clean, I write, I exercise, I read, I watch movies and TV, I wrestle with Calvin. Some days are better than others. Some hours are better than others. I've been struggling a bit over the past month. Decided for about a week to go back on a prescription. Gave it up in anger at myself because I felt like I was taking the easy way out. I can find ways to re-wire my brain on my own, without drugs, dammit.
I take a lot of naps. Something about depression makes me tired. I know I'm trying to avoid my own mind by turning it off.
Lately I've been wishing that I was someone else. Someone else inside my head. I don't want a different life with different people, I just want to swap brains with one that is whole, calm, and at peace. I have a good life - I'm married to my best friend, I have a decent job, I have a nice home, and all of my material needs are met. The only specific things that I am unhappy about are money and the fact that we don't live in Maine. Last night Calvin assured me we would get there, someday, we just have to figure out how.
The knowledge that he's on board with moving back home, and that he's going to help me figure out how to dig us out of debt, is very comforting to me. I don't remember being depressed when I lived in Maine. Granted, I was nineteen when I moved away, but is that the variable that will switch my brain back to normal? It certainly can't hurt, that's for sure.
I asked Calvin last night if he ever wanted to be someone else. He said not permanently, but he wouldn't mind inhabiting the body of Kate Beckinsale's husband for a weekend. That's my guy.
I wish you could steal you for a little while. :o)
I love you to bitty bits.
Posted by
Heather |
3:56 PM